


Love In a Cold Climate

by vix_spes



Category: Rejseholdet | Unit One
Genre: Case Fic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-15 05:09:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18492016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vix_spes/pseuds/vix_spes
Summary: A complicated case in Greenland necessitates help from Rejseholdet, with Fischer and La Cour volunteered for the polar destination.





	Love In a Cold Climate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swingtime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swingtime/gifts).



> Written, as is often the case, for my darling Swing from a prompt. Sorry it's taken so long!

 

“I don’t think I heard you properly, Ingrid. You want us to go where?” There was a quality in the voice that implied that Mt Fischer was about to explode.

“Greenland.”

“That’s what I thought you said. Why the hell do you want us to go to Greenland?”

“There’s been a murder and the local police can’t solve it. They asked Boysen out to do the autopsy and he recommended that they call us in to help them.”

“Us? Us implies that they invited the whole team, but the way you’re talking sounds like you’re only sending Fischer and myself.” Even La Cour’s voice held an edge.

Ingrid looked decidedly shifty. “Well, that’s because I am. I’m sorry, but from what I’ve been told, it doesn’t warrant sending the whole team. Not yet. IP’s too old,” Ingrid ignored IP’s offended exclamation and carried on talking, “Gaby can’t leave Johnny and the baby and, well, I’m needed here. You’re the only ones who can go.”

“And where, precisely, are we going?” La Cour’s calm, collected tones were at odds with the way that Fischer kicked a filing cabinet with a shout of frustration. There it went. Hurricane Fischer had landed. He may be older, with a decorated and respected career at Interpol behind him, but in essence Fischer was just the same; a hothead.

“Ah. Yes, well. You’ll be flying into Nuuk, but the body was found at Danmarkshavn in the Northeast Greenland National Park. It’s a civilian weather station located on one of the peninsulas. I believe they have a short airstrip there. Average highs are -17°C and average lows are -26.” Ingrid ignored Fischer’s outraged ‘the fuck!’ and carried on talking. “Given that you’re being sent there for work, we’ll buy cold weather gear for you. Their police have provided a list of items that you’ll need so Ulf’s secretary will give you a credit card to go buy everything.”

“Is that supposed to make it better?”

“Fischer…” Ingrid’s voice was weary. “None of us wants to go to Greenland…”

“And that’s fine for you because you three because you’re not going. We are. So, what do we get if we go?”

“What do you get? Fischer, this isn’t an opportunity for bargaining. It’s a requirement of your job that you go.”

“If it’s a requirement of our job, then why is it only us going? Fischer’s right, what do we get as recompense?”

“Not you as well, La Cour. I swear, Fischer’s been a bad influence on you since the two of you got together. Fine, two days off when you get back.”

“Not good enough. However long we have to spend freezing our bollocks off over there, we get off in lieu.”

“No way! What if you don’t solve the case?”

The looks that were levelled at Ingrid were unimpressed to say the least. “Ingrid, this is Fischer and I, we’re talking about. When have we ever not solved a case? As a compromise, and this is our final offer, ten days off when we return from solving the case.”

Ingrid didn’t respond for a long time, but both men were more than happy to wait her out. They had the advantage here and everyone knew it. All they had to do was wait for Ingrid to capitulate and acknowledge it. Considering how stubborn she could be, it didn’t take as long as they had been expecting.

“Fine. Ten days off _after_ you’ve completed the case. Now clear your desks and go see Ulf’s secretary for the card. I’ll get the files sent over to your flat and I’ll expect you to check in every day.”

“Sounds delightful.” Despite it being muttered, Fischer’s sarcastic comment was clearly audible in the silence of the room and it did nothing to dissipate the tension. Clearly, Ingrid felt that there had been enough battles already and just let it slide, although her glare would have felled lesser men.

~*~

Twenty-four hours later found the two men stepping off the helicopter that had brought them from Nuuk. Neither man considered themselves to be bad fliers but the flight north, particularly the last part, had had them clinging to the door handles and each other as the small craft was buffeted by the arctic winds.

“I look like the fucking Michelin man, “Fischer groused as they moved down the airstrip, his normal gait more of a waddle given the clothing that he was wearing.

“It’s not your best look, but I think it still beats the slicked back hairstyle and the shaven look. Stop being grumpy because you can’t wear your leather jacket. Shit! Allan!” La Cour jumped as Fischer threw a hastily assembled snowball at him, nailing him right in the head and looking as though he was in the process of making another. “We’re here to work. Behave!”

“Fine.” Fischer dumped the half-made snowball on the floor and fell into step. “God, it’s bloody miserable here. I can’t imagine living here. Freezing cold all year round and only resupplied every August if the boat can get through the ice? Nah. My fingers would freeze off if I tried to light a cigarette.”

“However would you cope.”

“Very funny.” Fischer squinted through the gently swirling snow as someone started to come towards them and from one of the buildings. “Who’s that coming? One of the not dead scientists?”

La Cour squinted himself, “actually, I think it’s Boysen. Ingrid said that he’d stay here until we arrived. How did you not recognise him?”

“How was I supposed to when he’s all dressed up like that?” Fischer stuck his hand out as they got close enough. “Boysen.”

“Fischer. La Cour.” Boysen shook hands quickly, “you two drew the short end of the stick, eh?”

“Yeah, we got volunteered by your missus. What’s going on then? I want to get this solved before my balls shrink and drop off.”

Boysen gave a bark of laughter and elbowed La Cour good-naturedly in the ribs. “Charming partner you have there. Come this way, we’ll get you a coffee in a bit. There’s been a development overnight.”

“Good development as in your murderer has turned themselves in and we can piss off home or bad development?” Fischer groaned as he realised, they were heading to a smaller outbuilding rather than the main weather station.

“Ah shit.”

“Yeah. They found a second body this morning. Haven’t had the chance to get the body down to Nuuk yet, so thank god for the cold weather; this outbuilding is my temporary morgue/autopsy.”

“Is it the same cause of death?”

“Yes. Blunt force trauma to the back of the head and then hypothermia.”

“Who found the body? Same person as last time?”

“It was a member of Slædepatruljen Sirius, but I don’t know if it was the same guy. Look, whoever did this knew what they were doing. The actual killing was effective and leaves little to no evidence behind in terms of fingerprints and the like. Whoever did it was just bloody stupid in choosing to do it here and now.”

“There’s what, six permanent residents on the base? Well, four now. And then how many in the Siriuspatruljen?”

“Twelve. Working in teams of two.” La Cour answered absentmindedly as he peered at the body. “They’re officially based out of Daneborg though. And dealing with them could be problematic; they’re under the jurisdiction of Joint Arctic Command.”

“This whole thing just gets better and better, doesn’t it? Right, Boysen, I’m guessing you’re back to Nuuk to deliver the latest body.” Fischer barely waited for Boysen to nod before he was talking again, “in which case, let’s go and meet our prospective murderers.”

“I can’t decide if I like the fact that the majority of our suspects are under one roof or feel trepidation that we’ll be staying under the same roof.”

“I don’t care as long as they’ve got coffee. I’ll care even less if they let me have a smoke inside.”

“Never change, Fischer, never change.”

~*~

Hours later, they tumbled into bed, only bothering to strip off the top-most layers of clothing. It was warmer inside the weather station than it was outside, but not by much and both of them were still covered head to toe in thermals.

“As if it’s not bad enough that we’re the only two that got sent here, it’s too cold to get naked and have sex.”

“Fischer, when do we ever have sex on a case?”

“There was that time in Viborg – the psycho priest – and that time in Odense, with the gang.”

La Cour swallowed hard at that, his throat feeling far too tight and he instinctively tightened his arms around Fischer. He remembered that time all too well, not least because he had instigated it.  The case had been too reminiscent of that one all those years ago, the one that saw Fischer undercover and lost to La Cour. He jerked and yelped as he felt Fischer’s cold nose press against the flesh of his throat, followed by a scrape of stubbly skin against his own.

“See, we do have sex on cases. We could be having sex right now if I wasn’t afraid our dicks would drop off in the cold.”

The bark of laughter Fischer’s comment drew from La Cour was loud and sharp, a staccato burst. It was also a fairly common occurrence when they were in bed together, one that had been missing from his other relationships. He had loved Helene and had fond memories of their relationship, but it lacked the humour, the comfort and the spontaneity of his relationship with Fischer. Had lacked the sense that it just felt right, as though they had found where they belonged and where they belonged was each other.

“Well, there’s the incentive to solve the case then. The quicker we get the case solved, the quicker we can go home and have sex. Ten days where we don’t have to leave the bed for anything other than food and the bathroom.”

“I think you’re vastly overestimating our capabilities; we’re getting old.”

“Old? Pfft. Speak for yourself.” Fischer adopted his usual sleeping position, namely wrapping himself around La Cour as though the taller man were a teddy bear and pressed a few kisses to La Cour’s throat, one of the few exposed patches of skin, before he spoke. “What do you make of it all?”

“I don’t know. There’s something strange going on. Something doesn’t feel right, but I can’t place my finger on exactly what it is.”

“We’ll figure it out. Just pray that there isn’t another body waiting for us in the morning.”

~*~

To their immense relief, there wasn’t another body waiting for them when they woke. Then again, neither were they any closer to solving the two murders that had already occurred. Gaby had sent over files on both their victims and the remaining scientists, while Ingrid was working on the General in charge of the Joint Arctic Command to get details on the members currently serving in the Siriuspatruljen. In the meantime, La Cour and Fischer were trying to keep this as normal an investigation as possible and interviewing the still living scientists.

The problem was that they just weren’t getting anywhere. The four remaining residents at Danmarkshavn seemed like perfectly nice people, if not a little geekish and slightly eccentric. Nothing about them set alarm bells ringing for either Fischer or La Cour and neither did anything in the files that Gaby had sent over. None of them had any criminal convictions, didn’t seem to have been involved with the police before at all. They were all pretty much perfect citizens.

The same applied to the two dead scientists; no criminal background, no issues with anybody, liked by their colleagues. The only piece of useful information that they had found out was that the two murdered scientists had been lovers. To add a further dimension to the case, both of the victims were women. La Cour waited from the inappropriate comment from Fischer but it never came, at least not audibly; La Cour knew Fischer well enough to recognise the glint in his eye.

Of the scientists left alive, three of them – the men – were all useless. Middle-aged, maybe five to ten years older than Fischer and La Cour, they were hopeless. If it wasn’t to do with science or weather, they were utterly oblivious to what was going on around them. It was the sole female of the group – Trine – who gave the most help. A widow of IP’s age, she had volunteered to come to Danmarkshavn when her youngest child had gone to university. A motherly figure, the two young lovers – Agathe and Lena – had confided in her. As far as she knew, the two were happy together and hadn’t argued. La Cour made a call to Gaby for her to check into the previous love lives of the girls and there was nothing more they could do. At least not for the time being.

(~*~)

It came as absolutely no surprise to La Cour that, barely an hour after they had acknowledged that there was nothing more they could do without extra information, Fischer announced that he was going out to look at the sites where the deceased had been found. La Cour wasn’t exactly happy about it – this was the Arctic, not Copenhagen – but he knew that, when Fischer had made his mind up, there was going to be no changing his mind. He had tried suggesting that Fischer wait until a member of Siriuspatruljen came by and could escort him, but Fischer was having none of it. All La Cour could do was ensure that Fischer had the necessary gear – a compass, working radio and multiple flares – as well as that he was fully dressed in all of his cold-weather gear and wave him off from the door of the weather station.

La Cour wasn’t exactly sure how long he sat there after Fischer left, combing through the files in case there was something that he had missed. He couldn’t find anything and all he could do was hope that something would come to light in the new information that Gaby hopefully turned up. He had just started working his way through the last file when the words in front of him blurred before his vision whited out prior to going black.

This wasn’t his normal type of vision.

Normally he would see things, images of what had happened almost like a video, not intermittent pitch black and blinding white light. And then there was the overwhelming sensation of fear. So much fear that it was almost cloying, and he found himself struggling to breathe.

La Cour’s visions were always overwhelming and disorienting but they weren’t normally this visceral. The only time that they had been, someone he was close to had been involved. And not just anyone but Fischer.

Something was wrong with Fischer.

Files went tumbling to the floor as La Cour scrabbled for the radio, desperately trying to raise his partner. There was nothing. No response, just static. La Cour's heart was hammering so hard that he could hear his blood pulsing in his ears. Why wasn't Fischer responding? What had happened to him? Was he even still alive? And then an almighty roar came through the radio.

A polar bear.

It had to be. La Cour didn't know of any other wildlife out here that would make a noise like that. Shit. Wherever Allan was, there was a polar bear. And this was Allan; if anyone was going to inadvertently piss it off enough to attack, it was him. La Cour didn't know what to do. Did he continue trying to raise Fischer on the radio? What if Fischer was hiding and the sound of the radio gained the attention of the creature? What the hell was he supposed to do?

The silence as he waited seemed never-ending, broken intermittently by a few more roars. And then, when there had been nothing but silence for what was probably only ten minutes yet felt like an eternity, the radio crackled into life.

“Hello? Anyone there?”

La Cour slumped in relief. Fischer was alive. If there had been any shadow of a doubt in his mind whether they would take the time off when they got back to Copenhagen, it was gone.

“Fischer! Are you okay? The bear didn't get you?”

“It tried bloody hard. There's a massive rip down the front of my coat but it doesn't feel like it got me, and I think I'd know if I'd been gouged by a polar bear. I managed to hide in a cave and used one of the flares to scare it off. I can't hear it anymore, so I think it worked and it's gone. I'm going to head back to the weather station.”

“Is that a good idea? You can activate the beacon on your radio, and I can get one of the patrol to come and get you. They're armed in case the bear is still around.”

“No, that would take too long. I'm not staying here any longer than I have to. Look, I'm leaving now, and I'll be back soon.”

There was no chance that La Cour could concentrate on the files now that he knew Fischer was attempting to return, even with the possibility of a polar bear being in the area. He didn't know how long it would take for Fischer to return but, even so, he abandoned the files and paced up and down in front of the door to the weather station.

As soon as he saw Fischer's form appear, the door was open, La Cour not caring about conserving heat. The final few hundred yards were interminable - probably more so for Fischer than for himself - and the second that Fischer was in touching distance, La Cour threw caution to the wind and pulled Fischer into a desperate kiss of relief before embracing him, noticing how Fischer clung to him. He didn't care if the scientists saw them, didn't care if he was being unprofessional. He needed the physical reassurance that Fischer was alive and with him. Fischer needed it too, if the way he clung was anything to go by.

“Our room. Now.”

The fact that Fischer allowed himself to be manhandled said it all, said just how shaken he was by the events. Neither of them would be capable of doing any work on the case, so there was no point in attempting it. The only thing La Cour intended to do for the rest of the evening was strip Fischer of his outdoor gear before cocooning him in an embrace until they were both reassured. He had the feeling that Fischer wasn’t going to object.

~*~

Both of them stayed close to the weather station - and each other - after that. It helped that Gaby had managed to collate information on the private lives of both women and sent the files over so they both had new material to comb through.

Agathe was simple. From what Gaby had managed to find, she was a studious young woman, dedicated to her work to the point where she had eschewed a love life for most of her career. There was just one ex-partner that Gaby could find, and, by all accounts, it had been an amicable split. The other woman had been offered an academic post at an American university and, given Agathe's work in Denmark, and the fact that neither of them particularly wanted to attempt a long-distance relationship, they had split. The ex in America was happily settled with her girlfriend and hadn't been back to Denmark in three years.

Lena's past was far more colourful. There was a litany of lovers, both male and female, most short-term but a couple of long-term relationships as well. Yet, despite her being a more prolific dater than Agathe, all of her relationships had ended amicably. All except one. The last boyfriend that she had had before coming to Danmarkshavn and embarking upon the relationship with Agathe – one Rasmus Larsen – had ended somewhat acrimoniously. Speaking with her neighbours and family members, the couple had been happy initially, but that happiness had waned as Rasmus had become more and more controlling. Family told of a happy young woman who had slowly retreated within herself and neighbours told of explosive arguments between the two. Apparently, they had advised her to contact the police, only for her to dismiss their concerns. She had dumped Rasmus when she had been accepted for the trip to Danmarkshavn and he had told her to turn down the offer.

Yet, even this knowledge didn’t provide an explanation for the murders, given that, according to his family, Rasmus Larsen was travelling the world to heal his broken heart.

(~*~)

It wasn't until finally, almost forty-eight hours after Fischer's run in with the polar bear, that Ingrid got the personnel files on the members of Siriuspatruljen from JAC and they got their chance. By this point, both Fischer and La Cour were convinced that their killer was part of the patrol. There was no other explanation for it. There was no other way that someone could have made it here – to Danmarkshavn - without being noticed and it wasn't any of the scientists which meant that, by a process of elimination, it was the patrol.

The chiefs at Joint Arctic Command weren't happy with the insinuation that one of their men was a double murderer but they agreed to let Fischer and La Cour interview them. So, as the pair made the journey down to Daneborg, JAC started to call in the patrol pairs from Station Nord and Mestersvig.

The second that they arrived in Daneborg, Fischer and La Cour started going through the personnel files. To their total lack of surprise, there wasn’t anyone who jumped out at them. These men were an elite Danish naval unit. They had already undergone their compulsory service and to then get accepted into the programme required exceptional physical and psychological attributes. Of course, it was possible that they suffered a psychological break whilst on the job – the gruelling nothing of northern Greenland was enough to break the strongest person – but one of their comrades would have realised.

Surely.

There was one file that Fischer kept going to, time and time again, something niggling him that it just wasn’t right. The file was that of Asbjorn Larsen. On paper, and even interviewing the other members of the patrol, he was the perfect recruit but there was something about him that didn’t feel right to Fischer. By the time that he figured it out, it was almost too late, but he called out just in the nick of time.

“Thomas!”

La Cour ducked just quickly enough that the blow glanced off the side of his head, instead of hitting him straight on. If he - or Fischer - had been a micro-second slower, it could have been fatal. He wasted no time in pinning his assailant, trusting in his partner. “Fischer?”

“That's not Asbjorn Larsen. That's his twin brother, Rasmus. Ex-boyfriend of Lena.”

Larsen had been struggling since he'd been pinned by La Cour went limp, all the fight draining out of him now that he knew the game was up.

“We're going to need a room to interview him in. And you'd better phone your superiors at JAC. They'll want to be here.”

~*~

It was one of the most protracted, painful interrogations that both Fischer and La Cour had ever carried out. Larsen hadn’t wanted to say anything for the longest time, refusing to talk at all until, finally, he had been broken by his own curiosity. He had wanted to know how Fischer had worked out that he wasn’t his brother. After that, they could barely stop him talking as he detailed the lengths that he had gone to in order to take his twins place in the Siriuspatruljen, before killing his former girlfriend and her current lover.

Of course, the minute that their killer confessed, matters were taken out of their hands.

As Fischer and La Cour suspected, as soon as they knew that their murderer was a member of Siriuspatruljen who had faked his identity, the Joint Arctic Command had decided that the case was very much out of Rejseholdet’s jurisdiction and in theirs. Neither Fischer nor La Cour had any real objection to that; at least the guy would be out of their hands sooner. Even better, as JAC operated out of Nuuk, they had agreed to take Fischer and La Cour with them, and military transport meant a quicker escape from Danmarkshavn, which they were both happy with.

It did still leave them with a few hours to kill though.

For his part, La Cour was happy to stay inside by the warmth of one of the heaters with a journal that one of the scientists had loaned them. He had been rather surprised when Fischer disappeared outside give the frequent complaints about the cold, not to mention the run-in with the polar bear. Fischer had been outside for maybe forty-five minutes and La Cour was wondering if he needed to go and check if his lover had started to freeze or had another encounter with the local wildlife when he heard his name being shouted. It didn’t sound as though Fischer was in a life or death situation, but then Fischer’s sense of what was considered life or death could be a bit skewed.

It took him a couple of minutes to pull his snow boots and bulky jacket on before he could think of going outside. When he was ready, he didn’t have to go far to find his errant lover. Fischer was sprawled on the ground in front of the main weather station, posing with a huge grin on his face and looking very pleased with him. Next to him was a rather crudely built snowman, complete with cock and balls. La Cour shook his head in disbelief, but his lips were twitching, and shoulders were shaking and, when he burst into laughter, it was inevitable.

“Fischer…”

“What? It’s traditional to make a snowman when it snows…”

“Not like that it isn’t!”

“And besides, I never got to make them when I was a kid.”

What could La Cour say to that? He hated that Fischer had had such a shit childhood and, as a result, was always inclined to give him a little more leeway with such things. He cocked his head, squinting at Fischer’s creation. “It’s hardly a masterpiece, is it? I mean, did you make any attempt at anatomical correctness?”

“Piss off, La Cour. It’s a snowman, not a bloody Da Vinci.”

“Well that’s fairly obvious. It’s wonderful, Fischer.” To prove his point, La Cour pulled his phone from his pocket and, risking his thumb for a few seconds, removed it from his glove to take a few quick photos. “Just make sure it’s gone by the time JAC arrive.”

Fischer threw him a lazy salute and La Cour returned inside to his journal and the warmth, chuckling at the photos.

(~*~)

The team from JAC had arrived with expected military precision and hadn’t wasted any time in loading their prisoner on board the helicopter, Fischer and La Cour following suit. The scientists were going to remain for a while before they made the decision as to whether they would see out the rest of their time at the weather station or return home.

They had had a short stop in Nuuk where Fischer and La Cour had briefed JAC on everything that had happened and handed over a copy of their report. From there, it had been back to the airport and on to Copenhagen. IP had been waiting for them at the airport and had driven them straight to the main office that Rejseholdet used in Copenhagen when they weren’t on a case. By this point, fatigue was starting to affect both men and neither was really in the mood to deal with Ingrid. They walked in and handed over the second copy of their report, before turning on their heels and walking back out. Or attempting to.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Ten days of leave. The time that you promised us when we solved the case. Which we did.”

“What if we need something more for the case?”

“Then contact JAC because this is their jurisdiction now, not ours.”

“Are you serious?”

“Ingrid, we solved the case. I have been attacked by a polar bear, La Cour was attacked by the murderer. I haven’t been able to feel my toes for five days, had a decent meal, a beer or sex for the same amount of time and my nicotine intake was severely hampered by the cold. I am going to rectify all of that right now. I am going to chain-smoke several cigarettes, have a decent takeaway and a couple of beers, then La Cour and I aren’t leaving bed for the next few days.”

“Don’t you think that was a little bit too much information, Fischer?”

Fischer grumbled under his breath in response and, whilst the specific words weren’t audible, the tone definitely wasn’t complimentary.

“Then you should have just let us leave, Ingrid. You agreed to us taking the time; don’t renege on your word now.”

“You sound stressed, La Cour.” IP’s voice was full of barely repressed mirth, “no love in a cold climate for you?”

“Love, yes. Sex, no. something that we’re going to rectify right now.” La Cour started ushering Fischer towards the door, pausing to shoot a rarely seen wicked grin over his shoulder.

“Don’t bother phoning; we probably won’t hear the phone ring. See you in ten days.”

 


End file.
